Jim & Jennie's Greek Village

I've had a tough time finding a blind-mowing dining experience lately. That is, until hunger struck in the middle of an afternoon "thrifting" (not the cool kind, the poor kind), and I found myself transported to the shores of Greece. Not really. But still, before I knew what was happening, I was deeply submerged in my blue vinyl booth, happily chowing down on some of the best darn spinach pie I've tasted since I worked at a Greek diner in Philly. The phyllo dough was nicely flaky, but just chewy enough to keep the whole thing held together. Darkly caramelized onions added flavor and texture, and it wasn't weighed down with too much feta cheese -- just the way I like it. Finally, something to salivate over.

Spanakopita appetizer ($3.25):
I may or may not have this as my iPhone wallpaper.

I exercised my timidness and ordered the sandwich special of the day, the gyro. The octopodi and pan-fried smelts will just have to wait 'til next time. Like the souvlaki sandwich, the gyro rested atop a piece of warm, delightfully pliable pita bread. This wasn't the puffy fake stuff you might find in the Baker's bread aisle. The gal I believe to be Mrs. Jennie herself, as she gracefully boxed up our scraps table-side, explained they get their bread from "a place in Chicago." Not bad, says I.

Gyro, complete with tzatziki sauce rich with dill, and house salad ($6.75 on Mondays).

The menu is more than fit for pescetarians, and even your vegetarian friend can tag along and get a Veggie Gyro. Winos will feel adventurous sipping on the full-bodied Kourtaki Retsina ($4.75/glass), which had a tangy, unfamiliar piney taste.

Jim and Jennie have been doing their thing since '85, and I hope they know how good they are at serving wonderfully rustic, traditional Greek cuisine. Even the way they dressed the wedge of iceberg in oil, vinegar, and a handful of dried oregano was somehow impressive. Rookies they are not; they've got the touch.